Take You Down
by sithmarauder
Summary: All great things fall eventually. Austria, Prussia swears, is no exception. Historical!fic. Prussia/Austria, PruAus.


**Title: Take You Down  
>Author: sithmarauder<br>Pairing(s): Austria/Prussia. Implied one-sided Bavaria/Austria.  
>Disclaimer: Hetalia and all affiliated characters do not (and will never) belong to me. Saxony and Bavaria, however, are mine.<strong>

What started as drabble just wanted to grow, and hooray, you guys get more history as a result. Also some porn.

This is so... old xD I found it sitting unfitting in the "Oneshots - Incomplete" of my Prussia/Austria folder. I really liked it, though, so I ended up fixing it up a little and finishing it. Hopefully you all enjoy (:

-x-

Prussia watched Austria silently, his eyes narrowing as the man welcomed his new queen, the Austrian's posture stiff and polite as he murmured what Prussia suspected to be words of encouragement into her ear. Beside him, Spain offered his congratulations and condolences, but Prussia, oh, he said nothing. There was nothing to say that wouldn't be covered by the other nations around him - empty words from Saxony, standing to Prussia's far right; evasive promises from England, standing with narrowed eyes and as far from France as possible; sly vows from Bavaria, whose dark eyes were sharp and unreadable; lascivious words from France, who made a point of flirting with everyone in sight. He was positive that they would all be approaching Austria tonight, promising to recognize his new boss as the rightful Habsburg heir - as Queen and Empress of the Holy Roman Empire - as they had promised to do during Charles' lifetime.

Tch. The little master was truly a fool if he thought they would keep those empty vows.

Eyes scanning the room, Prussia mumbled something under his breath as he shoved passed Saxony, ignoring the enraged splutter as he did so. Saxony's mouth twisted into a little sneer, which Prussia met with a smirk, something the little blonde responded to with a snort as his left hand twitched in a small, very familiar gesture.

_"A country ruled by a girl eez unnatural," France stated, resting his hand on his chin with half-closed eyes. "I will not stand for such travesty."_

_France's declaration was met with noises of general agreement from the nations gathered, especially from Prussia, who shouted something about being ripped and awesome._

_"We already agreed to __honour__ the pact," Bavaria reminded them calmly, brushing a strand of dark brown hair from his face as he curled his lips into something resembling a sneer. "Would it not be rather underhanded of us to just disregard it like that?"_

_"Alliances are make to be broken," Saxony mumbled, his eyes narrowing._

_"It hasn't even been ten years," Bavaria shot back, settling into his chair with a barely audible sigh._

_"You would take his side," Prussia accused. "We all know you fancy him."_

_Bavaria met this statement with a look that could freeze the sun._

_"What, Prussia, are you jealous?"_

_"A girl cannot rule ze kingdom," France interrupted then. Prussia snickered lightly under his breath._

_"What eez so funny?" France asked, raising one of his perfectly coiffed eyebrows. Saxony grunted, not liking the knowing smirk playing across the French nation's face._

_"The little master," Prussia replied. "And how he's willing to let a woman rule him."_

_"He's not much more than a woman himself," Saxony said snidely._

_"'e eez very weak, zat eez true," France mumbled, running his fingers along the edge of a wineglass he had acquired at some point. "So would eet not be easy to, say, overthrow 'im? 'ee cannot defend 'imself; Charles counted too much on ze Sanction to even prepare 'is daughter for 'er accession to ze throne."_

_"Pshaw! Why bother teaching her? She's a woman! Women cannot rule," Prussia snorted, crossing his arms._

_"We all know that," Bavaria hissed, his hatred for the Prussian nation clear in his eyes. Saxony fiddled with his sword, but said nothing in response to his brother's rejoinder._

_"Eet seems zat not everyone does, though," France countered, stepping in again._

_"Charles spent most of the later half of his years preparing Europe for this," Saxony said, an edge of defiance in his voice. "Of course they'd be expecting her to take over!"_

_"Shut up," Prussia snapped, slamming his hands onto the table. "The awesome me speaks!"_

_The three other nations fell silent, though France had to hide a smile behind an elegant hand._

_"We don't want a woman ruling," Prussia said, "so who says we have to hold up our end of the bargain? Why give the little master the satisfaction of lording it over us?"_

_"Austria wouldn't - "_

_"So you're saying we should agree, and then pretend we hadn't?" Bavaria asked dryly, ignoring Saxony, his dark eyes sparking with interest as he raised a single eyebrow, his left hand making a small gesture in the air, which made Prussia grin smugly. It seemed Bavaria was willing to listen, even with the ire gleaming in his eyes._

_"Yes! Then the awesome me can rule, and the little master will be begging at our feet!"_

Prussia whistled a low tune under his breath, inclining his head to Saxony as the small blonde huffed and moved away, disappearing into the crowd. Across the room stood Bavaria, offering his congratulations to the new queen and her country, his manner polite and collected, just like the little master. When he turned away to catch Prussia's eye, however, the mask gave way to a cruel smirk.

"Kesese. I am so awesome," Prussia told himself lightly, inwardly congratulating himself on his awesome plan (which was almost as cool as him). Soon he would have that aristocratic weakling begging at his feet, his clothes and face smeared with common grime. Prussia would see Austria grovel - he would see the self-assurance wipe clean off his face; he would make the stuck-up prick acknowledge him again.

It was all he had ever wanted, after all.

"Prussia."

"Heya, Specs," Prussia responded, turning to meet the nation in question directly, sneering lightly to cover up the fact that he hadn't seen the other man approach him. Austria watched him carefully, his black attire without crease or signs of wear. More than anything Prussia wanted to reach out and rumple it - to destroy the image of refinement displayed in front of him, something he had only been able to do once before, less than fifty years ago.

_"God, you really are a priss," Prussia sneered, watching as Austria sat down across from him, his eyes as cool as his mannerisms. "Seriously. Lighten up, will you? I know it's impossible to be as awesome as I, but you have the personality of an ice cube."_

_Austria ignored him, giving no response save a delicate sigh._

_Prussia snorted and closed his eyes, resting his hands behind his head as he leaned against the soft cushions, resisting the urge to grin. Opening one eye, he subtly observed Austria, his eyes roaming the other's body with concealed appreciation. It was amusing to him to see everyone grown up as they were, even though he had long since become accustomed to it - especially after he had gotten over his fright and shock over the suddenly female Hungary._

_In all honesty, Austria hadn't changed much. He still had the same personality - albeit a bit more refined, if that was possible - and general appearance, with the changes one would expect from seeing someone grow from a child to a young adult, and then a young adult to an actual adult, complete with a leaner body and the more defined features that came with losing one's baby fat._

_Oh, and he had grown taller, so that he was about the same height as Prussia's awesome self. But that was it._

_And yet..._

_"You have been staring at me for the better of five minutes, Prussia," Austria commented offhandedly, lifting the teacup to his lips. "Is there something wrong?"_

_"Pshaw! Yeah, right! Like I would ever stare at a scrawny thing like you," Prussia shot back, almost tumbling off the couch as he shifted his body. Austria's eyes narrowed on him, the only indication that he was offended._

_"You're so juvenile," the nation said at last, returning to his task of being boring as Prussia congratulated himself inwardly on what he considered a cool recovery._

_Another hour passed with Prussia idly commenting on his awesomeness while Austria pretended he didn't exist, both of them wondering when their bosses would be done with their discussion, stubbornly refusing to have much to do with one another._

_However, Prussia had never been much for silence or thought. He preferred action. He was a soldier. After all, Fritz may be in there right now agreeing to the ridiculous sanction that Austria's boss was proposing, but Prussia? Well, he wanted a little more insurance._

_And so, standing up, Prussia made his way over to the other man, his mouth curving into a smirk as he noticed Austria's shoulders tense as Prussia's shadow fell over him._

_"Prussia. Is there something I can - "_

_"Shut up and let me try something, priss."_

_"Excuse me? What are you - "_

_It felt like any other kiss - warm, soft, dry (though Prussia suspected that was because Austria was too shocked to do anything, judging by how he had frozen completely) mildly satisfying, and, coupled with the sudden burst adrenaline he found himself experiencing, kind of awesome._

_"You fool! What on earth do you think you are doing?"_

_"Relax, little master; Spain mentions you so much, I wanted to see if his stories were true," Prussia replied confidently. "I fail to see how. You're nothing special."_

_"What stories?" Austria snapped, crossing his arms._

_"Oh, lots. Sometimes he gets so depressed that not even the awesome me can drag him out of it."_

_"Well, stop it at once," Austria demanded, his eyes flashing with anger as his face flushed a deep red, making the mark on the left side of his mouth stand out even more. Smirking as he remembered something Spain had mentioned in a moment of depression and intoxication, Prussia moved forward, not even deterred when Austria held his arm out, demanding he stop "such uncouth __behaviour__."_

_"But you don't want me to, little master," Prussia murmured, raising crimson to meet violet as he reached out to stroke the mole, watching in fascination as Austria's __demeanour__ changed almost instantly from infuriation to… to…_

_Prussia swallowed thickly as Austria started panting, his violet eyes suddenly glazed over with some sort of need._

_"He's really not a bad guy," Spain had said fondly, polishing the blade of his halberd. "Once you get passed his attitude, of course. I don't regret the marriage."_

_"I bet 'e was a beautiful lover," France had put wistfully, lightly tying his hair back. "Such a pretty face…"_

_Prussia, for his part, had proceeded to fall out of his chair, spluttering. "The prissy aristocrat?" he had demanded. "Like he'd ever be anyone's lover!"_

_But Spain had just gave him a small smile, shaking his head. "You just have to know him well enough, mi amigo."_

_Prussia shook his head, clearing his mind of the memory as he ran his thumb over the mark again, his mouth twisting into a victorious leer as Austria let out a small moan, immediately trying to cover his mouth with his hand._

_"Embarrassed, little master? Don't want someone like me seeing you like this?" Prussia mocked, repeating the action and delighting in the small stifled noise that was his reward. "Imagine that: the mighty Austria, reduced to nothing by the awesome me just from this."_

_"E-enough, Prussia," came the reply, though Austria's hand was still clamped soundly over his mouth. "P-please leave immediately!"_

_"You're really in no position to be giving me orders, now are you?" Prussia returned mockingly, lightly grabbing Austria's wrist, pausing to snort at how small and delicate both the aforementioned wrist and his hands themselves were. Clicking his tongue, Prussia yanked the other nation to his feet, taking pleasure in the shock that registered in Austria's eyes._

_"Look at you," Prussia scoffed, running his hand down over the beauty mark as he absently caressed the other's neck, the skin smooth under his rough fingers. Eyes narrowing, Prussia watched as Austria sucked in a breath, momentarily ignoring the adrenaline and slight euphoria he could feel rushing through his own body._

_"I do not see why Spain talks about you all the time," Prussia continued, circling around the superpower, his hand never leaving the other's neck. His eyes still narrowed, he came up behind Austria, hand rising to the base of the other's chin as he forced it up lightly, looking down into the other's eyes as his free arm snaked around the nation's waist. "You're scrawny and weak," he murmured, "and you're too arrogant and sure of yourself for your own good. How can he want you? How can anyone still want you?" With each word, Prussia's breath ghosted over the other's face, until the only sound in the room came from two sets of lungs breathing in and out at different times. "I want to break you. So then no one will want you."_

_With that, Austria finally responded, a low chuckle coming from deep within his chest. _

_"Is that so, Prussia? Well then, break me," he said, turning around, his hand going up to the other's cheek. "Tonight, I am yours. And when it is over, perhaps we will see who has broken whom."_

"Prussia."

Prussia snapped out of the (very long) memory as he turned back to face Austria, the smirk wiped off his face and replaced by what some people might have dared to call thoughtful.

"Prussia," Austria ground out again, and this time Prussia could see the irritation in his eyes. Absently, he wondered how many times Austria had repeated his name.

"Something you need from the awesome me, little master?" he asked.

"I wanted to make sure that the vows still held," Austria told him simply. "That you will accept my new boss as empress, and that I will see no opposition from you or any of the others."

"Geez, you worry too much," Prussia said.

"Perhaps," Austria replied, eyes narrowed, but he said nothing after that. He didn't fidget, he didn't fiddle with his clothing – he just stood there, with his posture straight and proper, waiting for an answer that Prussia could not, in all honesty give.

The Lord hated sinners, after all.

Late that evening found Prussia pacing the halls of the large Austrian mansion, inwardly wondering how Austria didn't get lost more than he supposedly did wandering its halls. Sneezing once, Prussia ducked into a room, grumbling as he searched for France or Spain. The other guests had long since retired, leaving only a select few mortals and nations awake within the large house, Prussia among them. They had all left the aristocrat and his new boss to mourn Charles, and anyway, mourning wasn't cool, and Prussia had had better things to do than watch dead people be dead while other people cried over them. He didn't understand why they did that. Everyone died eventually, right? Even nations – he only had to think of his own grandfather, Germania, to back that up.

He wondered if that was what the little master was afraid of. If he dreaded the inevitable loss of his vast power over Europe, rivaled by England and England alone. Did he look at Spain, Prussia wondered, and fear that happening to himself?

What would it be like, to see Austria fall? Would he be forced out of his lavish home to dirty his hands as a soldier? Would he try desperately to grasp for anything he could hold onto, and use it to his advantage?

Would his bosses arrange yet more powerful marriages for him, to keep the Habsburg Empire strong?

"It's awfully late for you to be wandering, Prussia – did you get lost?"

"Pshaw! The awesome me, lost?" Prussia laughed, not even turning to face the voice, knowing he'd only see a pair of disapproving violet eyes if he did so. "I'm too cool to get lost."

"I see," Austria replied carefully, the soft glow of the candle he held only doing so much to brighten the otherwise black hallway.

"D'you ever think about it, little master?" Prussia asked suddenly, in the midst of a rare calm thought.

"What ever are you talking about?" Austria asked, staying still from what Prussia could tell. Prussia could almost taste the wariness in his voice, and it made him want to turn around and leer at the other; to slam him against the wall and force that small amount of emotion into the open.

Instead, he shrugged.

"1713."

"No."

"Really? Because I do. I think about how you moaned for me then, about how quickly you threw away that prissy mask of yours. Sometimes, little master, I think about your eyes, and how I will make them beg me for mercy when you finally stop fighting against me." Prussia openly sneered then, turning back to face Austria with a surprisingly serious expression. "You remember that nursery rhyme, little master? After the Black Death? Ring around the Rosie, a pocket full of Posies…"

"I remember, Prussia," Austria replied steadily, and Prussia finally noticed that the other nation wore only his sleeping wear – namely, a long, thin nightgown of sorts – simple yet elegant.

"Can you finish it, then?" the Germanic asked, pinning the other man with his gaze.

Almost instantly, a small smile crept onto Austria's face as he closed his eyes and recited the last part of the verse, his voice lilting and soft in the near-darkness.

"Ashes, ashes, we all fall down."

And then Prussia was against him, his mouth demanding as his hands ghosted down the sides of the other man, crashing into the wall as the candle fell out of Austria's hands, clattering loudly against the polished marble floors. The flame snuffed out on impact, leaving them completely in darkness, their other senses struggling to make up for the loss of sight as they revealed in each other.

"How irritating," Austria murmured as Prussia moved down his neck, moving the nightwear so he could nip at the pale throat. Prussia, however, didn't care to know what he meant – only engaging in his carnal pleasures with the man in front of him. Turning slightly, Prussia only had a moment to react before the door they had been pressed against slid open and Austria pulled him swiftly into a room, dark save for the slivers of moonlight shining in through the window.

The actions were nothing. Brushes, strokes, the occasional kiss – they were nothing, they meant nothing; they were merely actions, performed out of a mutual necessity, one that ensured the satisfaction of both parties involved. Occasionally Prussia would lean down and whisper something into Austria's ear, but there was never a response – instead, the aristocratic nation would merely tilt his head away, mouth held firmly shut by his insufferable pride until Prussia did something to make him moan and gasp, the masks collapsing for brief periods of time, becoming weaker and weaker and _weaker_.

Just like their wearer.

In the morning, Austria was gone, as Prussia had known he would be – a coward to the bone, in his own little way. With a triumphant smirk Prussia stood, grabbing the needed articles of clothing before stepping out of the room, only to meet a pair of dark eyes.

"Prussia. Enjoy last night?"

Purring like a cat, Prussia grinned. "Jealous as usual, Bavaria?"

The other Germanic nation hissed slightly, trying to straighten his posture lightly, though it did not come to him as easily as he obviously wanted to.

"Just watch yourself, _saupreiss_," Bavaria hissed lightly, gliding passed him, his grace a mockery of everything he was and wanted to become. With a small laugh, Prussia withdrew.

There was nothing else for him to do here now.

-x-

"The letter is sent!" Prussia crowed cheerfully as he approached Spain and France. "The little master should be getting it at any time."

"Perfect," France purred lightly, his blue eyes sparking faintly. Beside him Spain raised an eyebrow, shifting the halberd against his shoulder, where he was resting it.

"I know, right? I'm that awesome," Prussia responded airily, a smirk of his own curving his face as he grabbed his own weapon and donned the hat, liking the feel of the fabric against his head. In the back of his mind he knew Austria must be celebrating the coronation of his new ruler. The streets would cheer, the nobles would titter behind their finery and their gold, and Austria would merely stand there, watching everything with a slightly irate expression, as if the whole thing was beneath him.

The thought made Prussia openly grin, thinking of what they had done not once, but twice, and it still amazed him how Austria could live with himself and pretend, like denying it would make Prussia go away; like denying it would erase his actions and involvement.

Releasing a small laugh, Prussia glanced at his two companions, nodding once.

The little master was so powerful – so arrogant, and so sure of himself. But his strength came from political power, not military strength. So Prussia would wait – he would wait as long as he had to, and become as strong as he dared before striking.

_Enjoy your happiness, little master,_ Prussia thought, a smirk curving on his face. _Because soon you'll fall. And I'll be the one to take you down._

_-x-_

No, Austria and Prussia were never on good terms - at least not at any time during the 1700s, my area of (somewhat) expertise, or even the 1800s, during the Austro-Prussian war (which I will also cover eventually). There were some times in the 1800s where they allied themselves with one another, but those never lasted long, and even then they were not friendly with one another.

One of Prussia's most defining characteristics is his innate desire to want to see Austria beg for his mercy, and why is everyone better at writing this pairing than me? I swear, these characters do _not_ want to conform to my ideals (or history). I massacre Prussia every time, and I can only write historical!Austria, back when he was a huge dick. Which he was. Seriously.

Also, to hell with you, Bavaria design. In my head your hair is brown for no explainable reason that I can prove except with mentions of Mpreg (brown hair being a dominant gene as opposed to blonde, Rome having brown hair and Germania having blonde, etc), but I hate Mpreg, so no. We're not even going there ;)

Thanks for reading! I would love to know what you all think.


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